


Between the Lines

by Angelci5



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:40:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelci5/pseuds/Angelci5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doyle gets an unexpected letter from Bodie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2008 for a prompt "Written Communication".

_Dear ~~Hop-a-long~~ Ray,_

_Thank God there's only a couple of days left on this job, any longer and I think I would have gone stark raving mad. Which, by the way, is what Cowley must be for sending us out here. He should never have agreed to this... Yeah, yeah, OK, I won't go on about it again, but I'd love to know what the old man’s got planned this time._

_No-one in this tinpot country could give a toss about the Minister's visit, let alone be arsed to try and assassinate him. And speaking of His Nibs, if I have to listen to him complain one more time about the flies, the humidity, the food, the power cuts... I'll bloody kill him myself._

_At least we get to stay in a hotel, and while it's not exactly The Dorchester, compared to where most of the poor bastards out here have to live it's a bloody palace. (I'm sounding like you now, aren't I, told you I was losing it._ )

_Honestly, it's been a complete waste of time. And you can tell the lads that we aren't 'bloody lucky', that this hasn't been a 'nice little jaunt' and we haven't had a chance to 'top up the old tan'. We've barely left the hotel because Whatsisface is too scared to go out and mix with the hoi polloi._

_Still, Murph's had it worse, he pulled night duty and has to spend most of his shift listening to the old boy snoring. At least during the day there are people around and visitors. I know you were pissed off at the time, mate, but you should count yourself lucky you had to miss this one._

_Speaking of which, how's the ankle? You'd better be using your crutches, no putting any weight on it, remember!_

_Tell you what, this writing lark takes me back a bit. I used to write letters all the time a few years ago, you know, when I was away a lot. With the mercs it was out of boredom, anything to pass the time when it was quiet. And then in the army it was routine, same as everything else there. Used to write to Mum, Dad and our Jamie, and whichever lucky girls I had on the go at the time._

_You know what, it's only been a few days, but I've missed you mate. I've even missed your moaning and griping... I think I must be suffering from some form of Stockholm Syndrome._

_I'll probably be back before this letter (shouldn't be difficult, I'll be amazed if it ever reaches you), and you'd better be ready and waiting when I get there!_

_Bodie_

 

"Oi, Bodie! I've just got your letter!"

"What letter?"

"One you sent when you were away on that job… You never told me you'd written to me!"

"Forgot," came the reply amid a clanking of mugs and spoons. “Come and get your tea.”

"You old romantic!" Doyle grinned, sitting himself down at the table while still reading the missive.

"It’s just a letter,” said Bodie defensively. “Drink your tea."

"Writing to tell me how much you miss me?" Doyle waved the page in front of him. "We'll gloss over the bit where you compare yourself to a hostage. Mind you, if you fancy being tied up- "

"Look, I was bored, it was just something to do, that’s all..."

"It's all right, I won't tell anyone, be our little secret, eh!"

"Doyle..!"

"Come on Barbara Cartland," Doyle slurped down the last of his tea. "Can’t sit here gassing all day, time we got going."

Following Bodie out of the door, Doyle carefully folded the letter and slid it into his pocket.

The End


End file.
